Battle of the bands
by star gazing girl
Summary: On a snowy, cold day, the Riverview High School band gets a challenge from their rivals to a war game. But what happens when their rivals get violent? R&R, no flames! Chapter 2 up! On hold, see profile for details!
1. Chapter 1

Hey, everyone! This is my first band fic, so be kind! Read, review, and enjoy!

Chapter 1: Just our luck.

The early December snow fluttered and twisted on the way to the ground. It seemed busy covering the already-white ground, but showed no signs of slacking off, much to the disappointment of 17 year old Cassandra Nova.

"Just my luck." She muttered as she turned to face her fellow band mates and twin, Alexandra. "It's still coming down." She added in a louder tone, giving the snow a glare as if it were personally responsible for every evil in the world. And in her eyes, it was.

"This means that we can't make it to Band Field Day." Alexandra said softly, voicing Cassandra's thoughts. Normally, Band Field Day would have been much earlier--in November or October--but due to student death the day before Band Field Day, it had been put off until...well, that moment.

"Take it easy, 'Andra." A familiar voice teased. "If the bus shows up still, we'll just hop on and ride. After all, the bus driver doesn't know if it's been cancelled yet or not. Hey, we don't know if they cancelled band field day or not!"

Cassandra whirled to face her long time crush, a trumpet player named Jonathan. "That isn't a good thing!" She said, but her voice was a bit more sultry and calm than it had been all day. "We need to know. I wish that Mr. Thomson was back from making that stupid call."

"Likewise." Jonathan agreed, shrugging. "But hey, if Crestfield High won't answer the phone, what can he do?" Then he noticed how Cassandra was trembling slightly. "You're cold." He said, extending his arms. "C'mere." Gently grasping her forearms, he drew Cassandra forward and stripped off his own band uniform jacket, then pulled it over her sparkling color guard uniform.

"We'll have to dig up the capes." Cassandra muttered to herself, blushing warmly. "We have them somewhere, we just can't ever find them."

"That is because you're all stupid, inexperienced, pathetic excuses for a band!" A male voice rang out. The ceiling tiles were suddenly scooted to a side, and the Crestfield Band, Riverview's archenemy, slid down into the band room on ropes that fell out of the holes in the ceiling. The speaker, Crestfield's drum major, strolled forward. "But that can't be helped. You are, after all, from Riverview."

Alexandra's face grew pale, then red as he spoke. She had been dating the Crestfield drum major for nearly 3 weeks. "Back off!" She said sharply. "Don't act like you're better than us when you're not!"

"If the shoe fits..." The drum major smiled and shrugged.

Jonathan stepped forward, drawing all the attention to himself. "Which is why we got a higher score than you at every competion?" He said, narrowing his eyes and moving slightly into a fighting stance.

"Enough of this!" A female voice rang out, and Cassandra whirled to watch her best friend and the drum major, Arianna, step forward from the percussion closet. "Look, we don't feel like fighting. Just go back to your school and we won't kill you."

"Perhaps we like fighting." The drum major drawled. "Perhaps a little competition is just what we need." He moved forward, towering over Arianna's 5 foot 3 frame. "And perhaps we have the perfect prey in mind."

"Get the h--- out!" Jonathan snarled. He moved forward, already balling his fists, but the other drum major moved back hastily, recognizing Jonathan's taller, more muscular frame.

"The military has war games, Riverview. Well, guess what? So do we!" He shouted triumphantly as his band began to hastily re-climb the ropes. "We're giving you home-field advantage. You have 20 minutes to ready yourselves, select and secure a base, and make the first move. The game ends in 24 hours, Saturday at exactly 5:13. Good luck!" With a mocking laugh, he blew a kiss towards Alexandra and vanished up a rope.


	2. Chapter 2

_Hey everyone! Listen, please review this even if it's a flame, okay? After all, it's no fun writing a story if you don't know if people hate it, love it or whatever._

Chapter 2: Organization.

Later Cassandra would wonder what occured first, the collective feeling of regret or the complete and utter chaos that gripped the band room. About 4 people made a wild break for the door and had to be stopped by a very annoyed Jonathan. A percussionst was knocked, head first, into her own bass drum and got stuck there and had to be pried out by a very sympathetic flute player. Several of the color guard members began screaming that they didn't want to die and couldn't be stopped. Finally, Arianna blew her whistle. The shrill, annoying sound caused the band to snap to attention (or grab their ears, twitching with pain) even though they showed signs of rebelling.

"Listen up!" She shouted. "I don't know what you people think you are doing, but it's survival of the fittest now. Dog-eat-dog. We have to band together if we want to win this thing...or even make it home in one peace!" The band murmured and shifted, but showed no signs of revolting. Encouraged, Arianna continued her speech. "Now. Flutes, clarinets and saxophones, you guys are Squad Red. You have to patrol the...let's say, cafeteria and gym. Trumpets, baritones, trombones and tubas, you are Squad Blue. You have the second floor hall. Low brass section, you have the lower hall. You are Squad...Green." Arianna paused, evidently thinking. Then she shrugged. "Color Guard, I'm splitting you up. Majorettes, dancers, you girls are Squad Orange. You have the 3rd floor. Patrol it well. Rifle twirlers, flag girls, you girls are Squad Gold. You'll patrol this area around our base."

"Hey, what about us?" A percussionist shouted.

"Oh." Arianna paused, then smiled slightly. "You are Squad Brown. You'll patrol the basement or stay here and help us fix the base up."

Several of the percussionists looked grim and determined, but a freshman pit percussionist raised his hand.

"Would doilies being going too far when we fixed up this place?" He called.

Arianna paused, eyebrows arched, then shook her head. "Whatever." She grumbled. Then she continued. "Section leaders, you will be the joint leaders of your squad. Arm yourselves with whatever weapon you can find."

Jonathan took a 6 foot flag pole from Cassandra, smiling warmly. "Be careful?" He asked, as if he was going on a pleasant outting rather than a patrol.

"Yeah." She agreed faintly. "You too."

The senior trumpet winked, then walked away, bandishing his new weapon and leaving a very uncertain flag captain.

"This...is so creepy." A snare drummer named Gary whispered. He held his sharped snare sticks up, ready to attack, but his knees were practially knocking together. Every long shadow in the high school basement seemed to hold some blood thirsty monster.

"Not to mention gross. Do you have any idea of who had makeout sessions in here?" Gary's girl friend, a mallet player, chimed in.

"Quiet." Hissed the lead percussionist, a senior named Andy. "Or do you want them to find us?"

"Sorry!" Gary whispered. "Man, it's creepy."

"What is it?" A taunting voice called, and several smirking Crestfield band members emerged. "Scared of the dark?"

"You wish." Andy said challengingly. He lifted his baton, stolen from the Guard closet, and took on a fighting stance. "If you want to fight, let's go!"

The Crestfield band members chuckled. "Why should we?" The speaker asked. "After all, you know you'll loose."

With angry cry, Gary dove forward and began to fight.

Cassandra was busy explaining to a pit percussionist why doilies shaped like hearts were not appropriate for the band room/base when someone pounded at the door.

Arianna hurried over and helped Cassandra and Alexandra drag a huge medal cabinet, full of music, rocks and small instument cases, from in front of the door.

Gary's girlfriend practically fell into the room, crying her eyes out. "They...they took them! They took...Andy...and Gary...and all of Squad Brown!" She wailed.

"What?" Arianna whispered. Her eyes were wide with shock, and she swayed slightly before clutching a chair and steadying herself.

"I was...the only one...who ran away!" Gary's girlfriend panted. "They...nearly got me...but...I cut through...the locker rooms...locked a few in there."

"Good." Alexandra soothed her. She had been on 'ceiling duty', which meant she was helping fill the area above the band room with items and gluing ceiling tiles down so Crestfield couldn't re-enter.

Another panting person appeared, this time followed by 4 people. "They got Squad Blue!" Jonathan reported. He carried a freshman in his arms; now he laid her on the director's desk. "We managed to fight them off, but they got the rest of them. And get this. A few members of our band are on their side! They just turned on us like...like..."

"I get the picture." Arianna cut in. Her eyes fell on the freshman. "What happened to her?"

"She hurt her leg somehow." Jonathan replied. He leaned against the wall. "We had about 30 people in my squad. There were 10 traitors, but that still means we lost about 14 people."

"They got Squad Green!" A person shouted. About 3 people ran in, panting. "They got them and said that we would never win this game!"

"What about Squad Red and Orange?" Arianna asked.

"They locked themselves in the office. I think they're trying to get a phone to work. Anyway, it's the best place for them. Over half the band was chasing them, but they sort of darted in there, locked the doors, and activated the security alarm. No one could move around the school without their knowing it." The boy replied.

Cassandra picked up a practice flag, beginning to wrap it around the wounded freshman's ankle and calf carefully. "Well, that's good, I guess."

"And they have Mr. Thomson." The boy added. "They caught him and locked him in a locker room."

"How do you know this?" Jonathan asked suddenly.

"Huh?" The boy uttered, his eyes narrowed. "C'mon, you don't think I'm a traitor, do you?"

"Yes, I do." Jonathan stood up, grabbing the boy by his shirt and lifting him off the ground. "I work in the office. You transferred here from Crestfield not 3 months ago. Besides that, I recognize you. You're Crestfield's band director's son. I'd know you anywhere." He gave the smaller band member a shake. "Come on, confess! How long have you guys been plotting this? Where's the base? And what are you doing to our band members?"


End file.
